


In the Making of a Scar

by enigmaticblue



Series: Dean Winchester, Agent of SHIELD [12]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Science Boyfriends, Tattoos, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24220156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: Dean waves at the sign and asks, “Do you mind?” The sign is in German, of course, but from the drawings in the window, it’s clear that it’s a tattoo parlor. “No, of course not,” Bruce replies, suddenly curious.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Dean Winchester
Series: Dean Winchester, Agent of SHIELD [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/84298
Comments: 18
Kudos: 89





	In the Making of a Scar

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song “Parallel Lives” by Lily Kershaw

_“Well our worlds didn’t collide/we lived parallel lives/would you notice me/walking on the street/I’ve missed you since the day we both died. In the raging of our ways/in the dying light of days/in the darkness of our youth/in the brokenness of truth/in the making of a scar/from the end until the start/we were running all the time/and we were living just to die.”_ ~ Lily Kershaw, “Parallel Lives”

Bruce has to admit that if they’re going to vacation anywhere—or go meet a donor somewhere—Germany isn’t a bad choice. Munich is a city of contrasts, the old and the new, beautiful old buildings and cobblestoned streets with more modern sights.

He’s used to taking pleasure where he can these days, and can usually find it if he looks. He has Dean’s friendship, and the various small pleasures of the day—friends, food, building something, teaching someone.

It allows him to ignore the fact that they’ve been sent to meet with a major donor who asked to meet with two of the organization’s most trusted employees. Since he and Dean have been with the NGO longer than most of the other volunteers, it would be the two of them, since they’re between assignments anyway.

Something about the whole thing has put Bruce’s back up, so he’s focusing on the beauty of the city. They aren’t meeting the rich donor until the following day, so they’ve had dinner at a German pub, and are now taking the long way back to their hotel.

Paid for by the rich donor, of course.

Dean stops short as they’re walking past a storefront, so suddenly that Bruce takes several steps before realizing that Dean isn’t next to him any longer. He turns and sees that Dean has stopped, peering at the hand-drawn items hanging in the window.

Dean waves at the sign hanging above the door and asks, “Do you mind?”

The sign is in German, of course, but from the drawings in the window, it’s clear that it’s a tattoo parlor. “No, of course not,” Bruce replies, suddenly curious.

Bruce has seen all of Dean’s tattoos at this point, although he’s never asked, and he’s never been around when Dean’s gotten one. “Why this place?” Bruce asks.

“Good art work, and I might have looked it up on Yelp,” Dean admits with a sheepish smile. “I’ve been wanting to get another tattoo for a while, and I was just looking for the opportunity. Thought I might as well do it while we’re here.”

When they walk inside, the place is well lit with a couple of overstuffed couches in the waiting area and framed drawings on the walls, some in black and white, some in color. There’s a young woman who comes out at the sound of the door chiming.

She greets them in German, and Bruce recognizes one of the few phrases he knows as “good evening.”

“ _Bitte_ ,” Dean says. “We’re American. And I know about ten words in German.”

The woman has dimples and dark, curly hair cut short. “ _Willkommen_ , gentlemen. What can I do for you this evening?”

Her English is accented but very good, and Dean gives her the same flirtatious grin that Bruce has seen so many times. Dean flirts the same way Tony does; it’s as natural as breathing and isn’t serious, but still devastating.

Her dimples deepen as Dean says, “I’d like to get a tattoo.”

“Do you know what you want?” she asks.

Dean reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, handing it over. “Sorry it’s not more complicated, but it should be easy enough.”

Bruce can’t see what’s on the paper, but the woman nods. “Yes, of course. I’ll see who’s available. Do you know where you want it?”

Dean unbuckles the leather cuff he’s been wearing on his right wrist. Bruce assumes it had been a gift from Natasha on her last visit, since that had been when Dean started wearing it.

“Here,” he says, pointing to the inside of his wrist.

She nods. “Very good.” She waves them to one of the couches, and takes the drawing into the back.

Bruce is curious enough to say, “I didn’t know you wanted another tattoo.”

Dean shrugs. “I usually get one under these circumstances.”

“What would those be?”

“Scars,” Dean replies shortly, but follows it up with an apologetic smile. “I’ll explain later when we don’t have an audience.”

Bruce has never watched the tattooing process before, and he’s fascinated as he watches—the drawing on the transfer paper, the transfer of the outline to Dean’s wrist, and then tracing the outline with blank ink and filling it in with red.

As soon as he sees the transferred outline, it’s clear what Dean is going for—the red symbol found on the thorax of the black widow spider, with a thick, black outline.

It’s over relatively quickly, since all the artist has to do is trace the hourglass shape in black and then fill it in with red.

The artist smooths a thin layer of some kind of salve over the tattoo and tapes a bandage over it. “Have you had tattoos before?”

“Plenty,” Dean replies. “I know the drill.”

The young woman nods. “Keep it clean and leave it uncovered, then. Don’t expose it to sun. It should heal up in a week or so.”

Dean nods and tucks the leather cuff in one of his pockets, and then he pays with the euros they picked up at an exchange in the airport, and they leave.

Bruce refrains from asking any questions until they’re back at their hotel room. Dean asks if Bruce minds if he takes a shower, and Bruce says he doesn’t. When Dean emerges in a cloud of steam, he’s dressed only in his boxer briefs.

He takes that as tacit permission to ask the question. “So, scars?”

Dean waves to the one on the back of his right shoulder. “The first one I got was when we graduated from Ranger school and got our first assignment. We were all drunk, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Bruce hasn’t really taken a hard look at Dean’s tattoos in the past, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Now, he can see the unit crest as Dean turns slightly.

Dean points to the tattoo over his heart, some sort of pentagram. “I got this after my dad died. Uncle Bobby said Sam had one, and it would protect me. The one on my right side is for the guys who died, their names and date of death. Left calf was for the mission after Angola, when I nearly died. I laid under a tree, and decided to live, and I got the reminder tattooed on me.”

Bruce is beginning to understand, looking at the outline of a thick trunk and spindly limbs of a baobab tree. “SHIELD? The Avengers?”

Dean points to the SHIELD emblem on his left shoulder, the Avengers’ on his right. “I kept the right shoulder open after SHIELD fell,” he admits. “I think I knew I’d need the space.”

“And the one today was for Natasha,” Bruce says.

Dean nods. “It’s not a scar, not exactly, but the principle remains the same.”

There are other tattoos that Bruce can see—a couple on Dean’s back, one on his right hip, peeking out below the leg of his briefs, one across his lower back. He doesn’t offer an explanation for those, and Bruce doesn’t ask. If Dean wants to share, he will.

“Sometimes, the best thing you can do is to put the inner scars on the outside,” Dean says. “After the first one I got, it felt therapeutic.”

Bruce wonders what images he would paint on his skin if he thought it was possible to do so without the Other Guy making an appearance.

He wonders what tattoos would look like on the Other Guy’s skin.

Bruce shoves that thought aside as quickly as possible. He doesn’t want or need to know the answer.

“Does it help?” Bruce asks, although he’s pretty sure he knows the answer. Why would Dean keep doing it if it didn’t?

Dean shrugs. “Sometimes. Not always. But it’s a reminder of where I’ve been, and what I’ve lost.”

“You haven’t lost Natasha,” Bruce replies.

Dean smiles gently. “No, I suppose not, but our relationship isn’t ever going to be the same as it was. I’m different, and she’s different.”

And then Dean asks, “What would you get, if you could?”

“The arc reactor on my chest,” Bruce admits. “So Tony would always be a part of me.”

“Well, maybe we’ll figure out how to get that done,” Dean says. “If you ever decide you want to try.”

“Maybe,” Bruce replies, but he has to admit to feeling a bit of jealousy for Dean, who can make that choice without worrying that he’ll be triggered and cause massive property damage.

Dean shrugs. “Let me know if you have any other questions, Doc. I figure I’m an open book at this point.”

“Do you have any you regret?” Bruce asks, because he’s curious.

Dean shakes his head. “No, that’s why I get them. I get them because I do have regrets, and I have guilt, and I wish I’d done things differently. I just make it evident on my skin.”

Bruce thinks the tattoos on Dean’s skin are a bit like the constellations in the sky, each representing a story but nearly unintelligible on their own. Who would look at the red hourglass on Dean’s wrist and see Natasha and their history? Who would see the fucked up mission in Angola in the tree on Dean’s calf, or the losses he suffered in the seemingly innocuous names scrawled over his ribs on his right flank with a date? Even the SHIELD and Avengers symbols might mean anything at all; plenty of people have similar tattoos.

“What will you do when you run out of skin?” Bruce asks.

Dean smiles gently. “Doc, with every tattoo, I hope it’s the last. I keep thinking that maybe I won’t need another one.”

They go to bed after that, turning the light off, but Bruce lies awake a long time, thinking about ink on skin and regrets and internal scars turned into pictures.

~~~~~

The next morning, they’re due to meet the rich donor, and they both put on their nicest clothes, which are only nice because they picked up some new khakis and a couple of button-down shirts when they got into town. They still look the part of a couple of guys who spend most of their time in the bush, but at least they’re a little more presentable.

If the rich donor wants to talk to people who are actually doing the work, they’re not going to pretend that they’re anything but what they are.

The hotel where the donor is staying is a few blocks away, within easy walking distance, but far more upscale than where they’re staying. That said, they’d been put up in a far nicer hotel than they expected.

A young woman meets them in the lobby. “Are you the two from Crossing Borders?”

Bruce glances at Dean, who shrugs. “That’s the NGO we work for, yes.”

“Come on back, gentlemen,” she replies. “There’s a room set aside for your meeting.”

Bruce shrugs and follows, a little surprised at the secrecy, but he doesn’t feel any alarm, at least not yet.

The conference room is small but well appointed, and there’s coffee and pastries sitting on a side table. Really good coffee, and the pastries are top-notch, too.

They each grab a cup and a pastry since they haven’t had breakfast yet.

“Is this weird?” Dean asks.

Bruce shrugs. “Maybe. I guess we’ll see. At least we’ll be well fed, no matter what happens.”

They’re about halfway through their pastries when the door opens, and Bruce—well, Bruce really should have expected this.

Dean chokes on his large bite of pastry.

Tony spreads his arms wide. “Surprised to see me?”

“Not especially,” Bruce says, deadpan, although he’s itching to close the distance between them.

Tony’s face falls slightly. “I really thought it would be a surprise.”

“It was to me,” Dean says after taking a swallow of coffee.

Tony closes the door behind him, and once that’s done, Bruce crosses the room to pull Tony in for a hug.

“You couldn’t have known the organization would send the two of us,” Bruce murmurs.

Tony is clinging to him tightly. “I know, that’s what made it the perfect ruse. Plus, I thought the chances were good. I asked for the most experienced employees, and that would be the two of you.”

“And you knew we were between assignments,” Dean comments wryly, humor lightening his expression.

Tony finally pulls back and offers a grin. “And I knew you were between assignments.”

Dean laughs and stands up. “Well, thanks for breakfast, Tony, but I think I’ll give you guys some space. See you later, Doc.”

No sooner does the door close behind Dean, but Tony is kissing him with desperation born of a long separation—ten months this time.

Unfortunately, things aren’t any safer now than they were before, and they’re limited to these clandestine meetings. Bruce has just about given up on having anything else, but he’s pretty happy with his life, even if he misses Tony.

“I’m still working on it,” Tony promises when he breaks off the kiss. “I think I’m making some headway.”

“Tony—" Bruce stops, knowing that his words will fall on deaf ears. Tony doesn’t want to hear that things aren’t likely to change, that it’s not going to get better. “That’s good.”

“You were about to say that you didn’t think anything would change,” Tony replies.

“Ross is still Secretary of State, the Sokovia Accords are still law, and I’m still a weapon,” Bruce replies patiently. “I think we’re lucky to have this time together.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Tony argues. “Things can be better. I can _make_ them better.”

Bruce sighs. “Tony, even if all we have is this time together, it’s better than nothing.”

“You’re right,” Tony says immediately. “I’m sorry. I should—focus on what we have, rather than on what we don’t.”

Bruce remembers what Dean said about regrets and scars, and he hates that this separation is leaving a scar on Tony that Bruce can do nothing to prevent or cure. Bruce knows they both have regrets about how things had been at the end, and they’re still feeling those wounds now.

“It’s okay,” Bruce says quickly. “I understand that it’s easier for me in a way. I love the time we spend together, and I miss you when we’re apart, but I have work I enjoy, and I have a friend at my back.”

“I have work I enjoy, and I have Pepper,” Tony counters. “But I also have a mission to get you both home and I hate failing.”

“Sometimes failure is inevitable,” Bruce says gently.

Tony shakes his head. “I don’t believe that.”

And Bruce knows he will never convince him otherwise. “Let’s move this to your room.”

“Sweeter words were never spoken,” Tony jokes.

In truth, there are times when Bruce misses sex, but not often. He and Dean work hard, and at the end of the day, they’re usually so exhausted they just drop into bed. If Bruce sometimes hears the sounds of Dean jerking off, he ignores them; given the close quarters they share, it’s only polite.

At this point, as long as they’ve lived and traveled together, Bruce counts it as background noise.

But it does mean that he’s quickly interested by the idea of actual human contact, and especially contact with Tony.

Tony’s room isn’t as opulent as Bruce expects, but it’s still quite nice. It’s a suite of rooms, but on the smaller side, with clean lines and modern furniture. The curtains are closed, the room lit only by the sunlight creeping around the edges, and a dim bedside lamp.

They don’t waste any time once inside, and Tony says, “I want you to fuck me. I want to feel it.”

“I can do that,” Bruce replies. “Where’s the lube?”

“Condom’s on the bedside table, and you won’t need any lube,” Tony replies. “I came prepared. I was feeling hopeful.”

“That hope was not misplaced,” Bruce confirms, because he’s hard as fuck, and he wants Tony with a fervor that’s only present in Tony’s company.

They waste no time stripping out of their clothes, and Tony is as good as his word. He sprawls back on the bed, legs spread in invitation. There’s no need for foreplay. As anxious as they both are, foreplay would just have them popping off immediately, and neither of them are so young that they can get it back up that fast.

Although, knowing Dean, he won’t expect to see Bruce any time soon.

But they have time; they just need to take the edge off first.

Bruce rolls the condom with practiced ease, and then slides inside Tony in one smooth move.

“Fuck, you feel good,” Tony mutters. “It’s been too long.”

Bruce takes it as a statement of fact, not a complaint, and he focuses on not coming immediately. “Normally, I don’t like surprises, but I’ll make an exception in this case.”

“You sound remarkably coherent,” Tony comments breathlessly.

“I’m trying not to come right now,” Bruce replies. “I don’t want this to be over too soon.”

“We have time,” Tony murmurs, and the mood changes on a dime. “I paid for a week for the room.”

Bruce slows his thrusts slightly. He presses his forehead to Tony’s and breathes in deeply. “We were going to make a vacation out of it.”

“I know,” Tony replies with a smile. “That’s why I paid for a week.”

Bruce shakes his head, thinking of the emails they had recently exchanged, and he can’t quite believe that he hadn’t suspected a thing, or that Tony hadn’t let on to his plans.

When they’re both done, they sprawl out on the bed, and Bruce ties off the condom. He lets it drop on the floor, figuring he’ll take care of it later.

“What was that on Dean’s wrist?” Tony asks after a moment, once they’ve both caught their breath.

Bruce raises his eyebrows. “You’re thinking about Dean right now?”

“Well, no, I was thinking about you, and then I wondered what you guys were doing yesterday, because I know when you arrived, and then I remembered seeing something on Dean’s wrist that wasn’t there before,” Tony says, quite reasonably.

“He wanted to get a new tattoo,” Bruce replies. “We stopped in at a place yesterday afternoon.”

“You ever think about getting one?” Tony asks.

Bruce shrugs and rolls to one side to look at him. “Not really, although what Dean told me makes sense. He gets them to commemorate regrets.”

“Scars made manifest, huh?” Tony muses. “If I followed that model, I wouldn’t have an inch of skin uncovered.”

“I think it’s just the big ones,” Bruce points out.

“I have plenty of big regrets, too,” Tony replies, and he rolls to press a kiss to Bruce’s bare shoulder. “But it’s an interesting idea.”

Bruce doesn’t ask what his biggest regret is; he finds that he doesn’t want to know. Bruce knows he would make the list, but he doesn’t want to know what Tony regrets the most—ever being with him, or no longer being able to be together.

“Nap?” Tony suggests.

“Sure,” Bruce replies easily, and he slings an arm across Tony’s chest.

~~~~~

Sometimes, Bruce doesn’t mind the fact that he only sees Tony sporadically. He remembers the last few months in New York before he left with Dean and how tense things had been, how unhappy he’d been. He remembers chilly silences and heated arguments, and he compares that to the last few days in Munich.

Dean gives them their space, although they share some meals together, all three of them. But mostly, he and Tony stay in his hotel room, leaving briefly to walk around the city, or grab a beer, or eat a meal.

But the important thing is that they’re happy, and there’s no tension. It’s just sex and warmth and a really good time.

If Bruce gets to have these bright spots every once in a while, and has a good life between, he’s not sure he’d want to go back even if he could. Not unless he could be certain that they would do things differently.

Halfway through their week in Munich, he and Tony are out for dinner with Dean, and Bruce steps away to use the bathroom. When he comes back, Tony and Dean are deep in conversation that abruptly stops when they see him.

Bruce frowns, but Dean gives him a reassuring smile that tells Bruce there’s nothing to worry about.

“So, I have a meeting tomorrow afternoon that I actually have to take,” Tony says. “Otherwise, Pepper will kill me. You don’t mind, right?”

“Of course not,” Bruce says immediately. “As long as Dean doesn’t mind me hanging out with him.”

Dean shrugs. “Oh, I suppose I can stand your company for a few hours.” Then he does the very mature thing and sticks out his tongue.

Bruce rolls his eyes. “I can see that you two are a very good influence on each other.”

“Hey, you’ve known that we tend to devolve around each other from the very beginning,” Dean jokes. “The first time it was engines.”

“I hardly consider that devolving,” Tony protests.

Bruce laughs. “Both points are well taken.”

He arranges to meet up with Dean the next day after lunch, and he and Tony spend the night together, eating a leisurely breakfast in bed from room service, and then making love again. After a shower, Bruce leaves with a quick kiss that lingers, and Tony sighs.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I wish I didn’t have this meeting. I know we only have a couple of days left.”

“It’s fine,” Bruce replies. “I didn’t know we were going to meet up, so any time we have together is more than I expected.”

Tony gives him a brief, blinding grin. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Bruce says.

Bruce meets up with Dean at their hotel, and Dean smirks at him. “Have you been out to see the city at all?”

“A little,” Bruce replies. “Mostly when we’ve met up with you for meals, if I’m being honest.”

“Hey, no judgment from me,” Dean says immediately. “I just wanted to know what we were working with, and if you wanted to do the tourist thing or just sleep.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to a nap, but I wouldn’t mind seeing the city a bit,” Bruce admits. “And Tony said he’d be done with his meeting in a couple of hours.”

Dean nods slowly. “Yeah, sure. Let me show you a couple of my new favorite places.”

Dean likes museums and old architecture, at least partly because of all of his travels, at least according to Dean. Bruce suspects that he’s just a big nerd.

Today, they go to the Munich Residenz, which is big enough to take far more than the time they have. “It’s really too bad that Tony couldn’t time his visit a little better,” Dean jokes. “A few months from now and it will be Oktoberfest.”

Bruce laughs. “I don’t think Tony was thinking about beer.”

“Probably not, but he should have been,” Dean jokes. “At least if he was going to drag me along on this venture.”

“I think Tony knows that we’re a package deal at this point,” Bruce jokes.

Dean’s lips quirk up in a smile. “A very destructive package, but I appreciate that, Doc.”

“I’m not going back any time soon,” Bruce says. “If we’re both safe to go back, we can talk about it then, but that’s just not the case right now.”

Dean nods. “And you’re happy with the situation.”

Bruce blinks. “What?”

“You’re happy,” Dean replies. “I can see it; Tony probably can as well.”

Bruce takes a deep breath. He would never want to hurt Tony by making him think that Bruce doesn’t want to come home. “I like what we’re doing right now, and during the time we have together, Tony and I are happy. I don’t know that we wouldn’t fall into the same bad habits if I went back.”

Dean nods. “And we’re good together, right? It’s easy.”

“You’re thinking about Sam,” Bruce says.

“Yeah, some,” Dean admits. “If I go back, I’ll have to deal with Sam, and it’s been a long time at this point. Maybe it will be better, but maybe it won’t be.”

“I guess we won’t know for a while, will we?” Bruce asks.

“No, I suppose we won’t,” Dean replies, and then raises his glass of beer. “To absent friends and family.”

Bruce raises his own glass. “To them.”

~~~~~

Later that day, Bruce turns up at Tony’s hotel room at the appointed hour, and finds him looking rather sheepish.

“I may have done something kind of dumb,” Tony admits first thing.

Bruce frowns. “Unless it’s telling General Ross where we are—"

“It’s not,” Tony says quickly.

“Then I’m not sure what the problem is,” Bruce finishes.

In response, Tony peels off his t-shirt, and Bruce sees a gauze pad taped over his left pectoral, right over his heart and next to the arc reactor.

Bruce suddenly has an inkling of why Tony said he’d done something stupid. “You know it’s going to get out that you’re here.”

“I bought a couple of days of silence,” Tony replies. “And I have actual SI business here the day that you leave. We should be fine.”

When Tony peels off the gauze, Bruce is somehow unsurprised to see the outline of a radioactive symbol, filled in with green. “You sap.”

“I’ll admit that Dean gave me the idea, and he pointed the way to the shop you guys stopped at,” Tony replies. “But—the way things ended with you is probably my biggest regret, and even if we’re never able to be together again the way I want to be, I would still want to remember you.”

Bruce sits down next to him on the bed. “Is Pepper going to be jealous?”

“Probably not,” Tony replies. “I think she understands. Besides, we’re still friends.”

“Tony, _we’re_ still friends,” Bruce counters.

“But you’re happy,” Tony replies. “You’re happy with the life you have right now.”

Bruce sighs. “I am, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.”

“No, I get it,” Tony says quickly. “You don’t miss how things were at the end, but Bruce—I’m never going to get over you. If all we have are stolen moments, I’ll deal with that, but I’m selfish. I want more.”

“And if or when it’s safe, I’ll come home,” Bruce promises. “I’ve learned to be happy with where I am, and what I have. I’ve had to come to terms with all of that over the years, and right now I’m happy in Africa working for an NGO. That doesn’t mean I won’t ever come home.”

And as he says it, Bruce knows that he means it, that Tony _is_ home. The tattoo is such a ridiculously extravagant gesture, but it’s all Tony. It’s as much a declaration of intent as it is an expression of remorse.

Maybe, eventually, he’ll go back to New York, and things will be better because of his long absence, because they’ll both know how it could end. Maybe things will be worse, because they’re unable to live together in any kind of harmony. Maybe he’ll forever be in exile. Maybe he and Tony will only have stolen moments, living parallel lives that rarely intersect.

Maybe their relationship is just one more scar in the making.

But most scars are just reminders of pain, and Bruce doesn’t regret their relationship even if he bears the marks.

Tony does, too.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Tony replies.

“I know,” Bruce says. “I’m counting on it.”

And then they make the best of the time remaining to them. It’s all they can do.


End file.
